Year Of Silence
by Cosmoguy
Summary: Some wanted to be there. Most did not. What put them all in the same boat was a burning desire to prove to the world that they could do it, that they could return home. No matter the cost.
1. Year Of Silence Part One

**Chapter One: Year Of Silence Part One**

* * *

_My best friend, whatever happens, __I'll swallow tears and breathe in your hair. M__isbehaving, we cry in each other's embrace. __When we meet. __When we kiss._

* * *

**Head Gamemaker Glass**

The fourty-eighth Hunger Games were a Games that well and truly shook the nation of Panem. Even in the Capitol, viewers had been horrified by the gore and the torture the tributes were subjected to.

"You see, Glass, last year was a true success."

I look over to Snow who is looking over at last years arena through the cameras that are still placed there. The wind blows through the trees. The blood of the twenty-three fallen is still stained into the ground.

Unsurprisingly, the winner came from District One. It came down to the male from One, the female from Four and the male from Six. The three of them unluckily bumped into each other on the third day of being the final three. And from there, the horror began. Due to their earlier alliance, the tributes from One and Four first took down the boy from Six. His intestines were ripped out and used to strangle him to death.

It says a lot about those games that his death may have been one of the least gory.

And that's when the real fight began. The girl was bigger than the boy, eighteen years of age and muscular, with greasy shoulder length black hair and a face that could scare even the President. The boy, however, while only fifteen, was cunning. He was indeed quite small, but he had speed, and the girl from Four's brute force in the end could not live up to his skill. I won't go into details of her death, but in the end he had her begging to put her out of her misery.

Snow flicks through the Arena on his screen to go to the points of some of his _favourite _deaths. The girl from Nine is the one he watches over and over. She made it quite far, for a girl from Nine, in the end being the seventeenth tribute to die. The pair from Two teamed up on her. Each one of her limbs was tied to a tree, holding her in position, raised from the ground. From there, the pair from Two began to throw every weapon they had at her. A sword through her gut. A dagger through her right arm. An arrow through her chest, just missing her heart – they did that on purpose.

They wanted her to suffer – and suffer she did. She was screaming for her mother to help her, something that sent Snow into a sick, excited frenzy.

She was only twelve.

"Glass!" He shouts, and I march over to his desk. He eyes me warily, clearly having it decided in his mind already that I will not be able to live up to last year and I will _have _to be executed. We'll see about that.

"You see what you have to live up to? Do _not _dissapoint me."

I nod, and twist on my heels before striding out towards my office. I have work to do.


	2. Year Of Silence Part Two

**Chapter Two: Year Of Silence Part Two**

* * *

_My best friend, whatever happens, __I'll swallow tears and breathe in your hair. M__isbehaving, we cry in each other's embrace. __When we meet. __When we kiss._

* * *

**President Snow**

"President, we have the full list of tributes ready for you now."

My head shoots up, excited to finally have all the names of those that will perish, and of course the victor, in one place.

"Thankyou." I grin, taking the list. My eyes dart around, looking at the various names. Six volunteers from District One, Two and Four, as expected. The rest were reaped, and are no doubt crying themselves to sleep at this very moment. That, is a thought that brings me great joy.

I look back to the list again, reading each individual name to myself.

"District One, Amethyst Labelle and Armando Fine."

Ah, volunteers. As usual, both breathtakingly beautiful. I would definitely be able to earn some money with one of those as the victor.

"District Two, Milla Fiori and Corvinus Kay."

Although it is _strictly against the rules_, District Two always give us the best trained tributes. Milla Fiori, from a bloodline of victors. I can tell she will already be the odds on favourite, although I have a feeling her district partner will have something to say about that.

"District Three, Pixel Volta and Tobias Spark."

District Three. Usually, they give us the brainy tributes of the Games, and while the girl appears to be living up to that expectation, the boy most certainly does not. Never have I seen a young man look so brain dead.

"District Four, Emilie Silverwater and Faelen Beckett."

Once again, trained tributes. Although they look younger and much more naive than the pairs from One and Two. That could get interesting.

"District Five, Tatum Aston and Shiriki Smokes."

Something in the eyes of the female tribute catches my attention. A burning fire; she is unbeaten despite being reaped. Either that, or she's just an incredible actress. As for the boy, I can't help but chuckle, a short, fat boy. He will no doubt be the first to die.

"District Six, Bryher Swane and Sable Merona."

As the girl is reaped, a man in the crowd screams out in horror and has to be escorted away by Peacekeepers. As for the boy, he looks directly in to the camera with anger in his eyes. Ah, well at least he'll have somewhere to take that anger out in the arena.

"District Seven, Flicker Raye and Emi Prinkett."

The entire district gasps when the two tributes, both miniature in size, are reaped. The girl, an instant look of fear in her eyes, begins to shake. As for her male counterpart, he has a genetic condition meaning his vocal chords are damaged. A mute! That's a first.

"District Eight, Alisa Cardale and Nick Carrasene."

As per usual, typical District Eight tributes. Nothing particularly special. They have looks that could be sold, provided work is done, but I doubt they'll get past the first day anyway. Then again, I _have_ been surprised before.

"District Nine, Khyra Waive and Parker Tate."

I'm astounded in the sheer difference in the two tributes. The girl, small with dark skin and a huge bush of curls amounted on her head, next to the tall and muscular blonde boy. The boy appears to look at her with pity as she looks like she's about to burst into tears. An alliance there, for sure.

"District Ten, Merino Berkshire and Covite Spinelly."

The girl bursts into tears the second she's reaped, and the Peacekeepers are forced to spare a few minutes to allow her to recover from the panic attack she's hit with. The boy is a completely different story, he simply rolls his eyes and strolls casually up to the stage. Several boys in the crowd look to one another, clearly more panicked than their unfortunate friend.

"District Eleven, Kasha Via and Omarion Donatello."

The girl screams and looks back at a man in the crowd, seemingly her father, and begins swearing at him. I'm guessing she wasn't too pleased with the usual _don't worry sweetheart, it won't be you _speech the parents give their children. The boy, a huge, monstrous thing, firmly walks to the stage and doesn't even look at his district partner. Not that I blame him.

"District Twelve, Maddie Asherwyde and Zander Farmendy."

After several seconds of allowing her imminent death to sink in, the female tribute strides up to the stage, her jaw looking as if it's about to fall off of her face. The boy, of oriental descent, follows suit, neither of them showing any emotion other than shock.

I grin to myself. These twenty-four tributes are about to be thrown into a beautiful arena, more frightening than anything seen in decades. Head Gamemaker Glass certainly didn't disappoint me, as she promised she wouldn't.

Her pitch for the arena was magnificent. One of the most well-thought of concepts we've had in a while. She stated quite simply that it is light and therefore quite literally the daytime that gives tributes hope. What happens when you take away that light? When all they have is darkness? The arena would be in a permanent cycle of twilight, endless night, starry skies for eternity until the one remaining tribute is crowned and pulled out of the darkness into the light. It represents how they go from a repulsive everyday district resident, punishable for their sins many years ago, to a nation-wide celebrity, loved and admired by all.

No light. No hope. Their only hope will be the thought of winning. Every day they wake up they will be reminded of the dark days that they brought on themselves. That's if they do wake up, the mutts Glass is creating are sure to cause a stir.

_What is the arena? _You're asking.

Mud. Trees. Bears. Bugs. Mutts. Black skies.

A swamp. _A twilight swamp._

* * *

Just a note: know that this chapter **doesn't count as the reapings**, it's simply what Snow sees in the individual tributes. I was going to just make this chapter a tribute list, but I thought I'd make it more interesting.

I'm sorry if the arena doesn't sound too great right now... but trust me, I have some exciting ideas. I'm sure you'll warm to it.

The link to the blog is on my page. I may have changed a few things about your tribute, but nothing major, and it was to better the story. Go view the blog, and then answer me the following questions in your review:

_List the tributes you like, have neutral feelings for, and dislike._

_List the five tributes you think are most likely to win._

_List the five tributes you think are most likely to die in the bloodbath._

And if you like, you can give me an individual opinion on each tribute. But of course, that's up to you, it's only the questions I want. **Just a note **that if you don't review, let me know now so I can make absolutely no effort with your tribute whatsoever. The more you review, the further your tribute will get, provided I haven't already decided they're going to die in the bloodbath. But, you won't find that out until the actual bloodbath.

Make sure you give me some things you liked and didn't like about the chapter, providing that if you didn't like something you say something constructive rather than giving me hatemail.

- **Cosmoguy a.k.a Dom**


	3. Wrath Of God

**Chapter Three: Wrath of God**

* * *

_Christen them with paraffin, sterilize samaritans, contravene loyal ties, migrate them through the pesticide. They'll strip you of your heritage, heritage. They'll strip you of your heritage._

* * *

**Prime Willerton, District One Mentor**

The day is here.

Three-hundred and sixty five days after I volunteered. Three-hundred and fifty three days after I was crowned victor. My reign as the most recent victor of the Hunger Games is soon to be over, and it couldn't have come sooner. The constant cameras reporting back to the Capitol on my every move have become more than a burden.

"You ready for this?" I say to Opal, the other mentor for the District One volunteers this year. She's frail now, years of having to live with the guilt of death on her hands. She wasn't trained, she won one of the first ever Games, before anybody in One ever considered the prospect of training our tributes. Sometimes I feel like grabbing her shoulders and screaming at her to get it together, but I owe my life to her. If I'd had anyone else as a mentor, I'm sure I would have died in the Games last year.

"Time to go." A peacekeeper informs us. The entire square is in silence, waiting to see which two career tributes will volunteer this year.

"Welcome, welcome!"

The escort, Valentine Du Beck scurries on to the stage, followed by Opal and finally, me. I take a seat next to my fellow mentor as Valentine prepares to pull a name out of the boys bowl. It's practically pointless, there's always volunteers in District One, but I guess they have to stay true to the traditions as it's still _technically _illegal for tributes to be trained, although training some of the tributes always result in a much more entertaining Games, so the Capitol never intervene.

I don't listen to the name that Valentine calls out – I doubt anybody does. Before the unfortunate boy has a chance to even acknowledge that it was his name that was called, a huge, muscular boy throws himself out of the crowd and runs on to stage. The first of District One's two volunteers.

"Your name?" Valentine asks him, seemingly intimidated by the boys huge physique.

"Armando Fine." He snarls, stepping away from our escort to the other side of the stage. She awkwardly laughs to herself, saying something down the microphone about how _brave _he is.

"Time for the girls!" She says excitedly. I'm surprised that after years of seeing children volunteer, she still finds picking out a name of a tribute that clearly won't be entering the Games even remotely interesting.

"Topaz Labelle!"

Both Opal and I look at each other instantly. Topaz was the girl everybody was expecting to volunteer this year, but if her name was called then that leaves the volunteering opportunity open to anybody that wants it. Topaz picks herself from the crowd, her auburn hair flying with the wind, looking across at her fellow trained tributes, _daring _one of them to volunteer in her place and steal the limelight from her. For a second, it appears that there's nobody willing to take full advantage of this situation, until a girl identical in appearance to Topaz walks out of the crowd and on to the stage with a smirk plastered on her face.

"I volunteer." The girl says, not taking her gaze away from the rage filled eyes of her twin sister. Valentine awkwardly looks between the two girls, and in a fit of rage Topaz screams and runs off of the stage, pushing over several peacekeepers on her way.

"Your name?" Valentine asks Topaz's sister.

"Amethyst Labelle."

* * *

**Cara Fiori-Prescott, District Two Mentor**

I hadn't expected it to come around so fast. The day that my baby sister, Milla, finally follows in the footsteps of the Fiori-Prescott bloodline and volunteers as tribute in the Hunger Games. I'm nervous for her – but not in a bad way. I know she can win, I know she _will _win. But she's not as strong as I am, I often wonder how she'll deal with the emotional strain being in the arena gives you.

Titan is completely against her volunteering. He thinks that because he's married to me now he can take control over the choices that not only I make, but Milla also. She was born to do this. We all were. We serve no other purpose than to enter the Games and accept our new lives as a victor.

"What's taking them so long." I growl to myself, vaguely aware that the training centre kids still haven't arrived at the reaping. If they don't get here soon, the reaping will go ahead without them, and District Two will miss out on the chance of having a victor this year.

"There." Brutus says to me, pointing to the crowd of kids, dressed all in black, marching towards the square. Milla and Corvinus, the male volunteer this year, lead the pack, both looking proud and determined as all eyes turn to them. I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride for my sister, it's finally her chance to prove to everyone what _she _can do. My heart stops for a second when I remember I'm not allowed to mentor her, it's strictly against the rules for family to mentor family. Instead, I'll be mentoring Corvinus Kay, the brute that reminds me of Brutus two years ago, when I mentored him into victory. Of course, I'll do everything in my power to keep Corvinus alive, I know Milla could win even if she had no mentor.

"And so today, we are gathered to choose the lucky tributes that will have the honour of representing District Two, in the forty-ninth annual Hunger Games!" The escort, Demetria tells the crowd. _Chosen._ That's a word that's practically unheard of in District Two. For the past forty something years, District Two has been training their tributes in preparation for the Games. The training centre take in any kid that has nowhere else to go, and raise them with the sole purpose of being a brutal killer. Most years, the victor comes from either District Two, or District One, who soon followed our example of training their tributes. More recently, tributes from District Four have started to receive training also, although apart from Misty Linderman a few years ago, they haven't really had the same luck with victors as we have.

"Ladies first!" Demetria grins, clacking along in her stiletto heels to the girls bowl. With a dip of her hand, she pulls out a slip. I glance over at Milla, nodding at her. This is her moment.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Milla has shouted the honourable words before Demetria has even had a chance to read out the name. She joins us on the stage, looking as beautifully deadly as ever. It's a Fiori trait.

"And your name?" Demetria asks her.

"Milla Fiori." She replies solemnly, taking a step back and keeping her hands firmly behind her back. My eyes dart around the crowd, soon finding Titan who looks at me with pure anger. He made me promise to do everything in my power to stop Milla from volunteering, although it was not a promise I could keep.

"And now for our lucky gentleman!" Demetria says, quickly reading out the name before she can be interrupted by the volunteering tribute again. Corvinus Kay soon steps out of the crowd of training centre kids and steps up to the stage, muttering the same words the career kids say every year.

"I volunteer."

Demetria grins wildly, clearly pleased that she has the honour of presenting the Capitol with such strong tributes. One of which, clearly will be the victor.

* * *

**Beetee Latier, District Three Mentor**

Drusilla Spovinsky mounts the stage one again, the same look of frustration on her face that she has every year from not being allowed to escort the better districts. _Better _referring to One, Two and Four. Here in Three, along with the rest of the districts, almost always lose our tributes in the Games. I, of course, was an exception, along with Wiress, the other mentor this year. There have been a few other victors, but the number of victors District Three have is nothing compared to the career districts.

"It is time!"

The crowd is silent in anticipation of which young man and woman will be sent off to the Hunger Games this year. While I always try my hardest to stay positive, it's common knowledge that the tributes of District Three never do particularly well. Throughout the crowd, the children are frozen with fear, praying to whatever they individually believe in that they'll be safe for another year. I empathise with them a lot, I was in that situation fourteen years ago. How time flies.

"Are we all ready?" Drusilla asks the crowd. Nobody reacts, as to be expected.

"Then we will begin!"

She slowly walks over to the girls bowl, fixating her glare on it as she clacks her nails together. I take a deep breath myself, it's never nice to see the look of horror on the faces of the reaped tributes. Drusilla digs her hand into the slips, rummaging around and then pulling one out, holding it in her eye view.

"Pixel Volta!"

Everyone in the crowd turn to face the unlucky girl, probably around sixteen years old, as she tries to let what has just happened sink in. She takes a deep breath, not allowing her posture to falter as she walks from the crowd up to the stage. The fear in her eyes is evident, but it's clear she doesn't want to look weak on camera. I don't blame her, sponsors are never very generous when it comes to the District Three tributes, but showing weakness will only make that worse.

"Moving swiftly on." Drusilla adds, walking over to the boys bowl. She once again reaches in, taking several seconds to move her hand around before pulling out the slip that contains the name of our male tribute.

"Tobias Spark!"

The boy tribute, tall and incredibly skinny, picks himself from the crowd and begins to walk towards the stage, his jaw appearing as if it might fall off. He scratches his head and makes several confused noises, it's not hard to tell that he is not of the typical District Three stereotype. Obviously, most people in our district are smart, _that _much is common knowledge, but there are always the ones on the other end of the scale, completely lacking of basic brainpower. It saddens me that I will no doubt be mentoring a tribute to their death again this year, but I force myself to accept that I have to let Wiress mentor Pixel. At least the girl has _some _chance of winning, and I don't think I can bare to watch Wiress see another one of her tributes die.

* * *

**Mags Cohen, District Four Mentor**

I curse to myself as the Capitol cameras begin taking shots of Misty and I, the flash almost blinding me.

"I'm getting too old for this." I groan to Misty, prompting an awkward laugh as her response.

"Just smile and wave, Mags." She replies, not wanting to falter for the Capitol cameras. Women these days, always so narcissistic and vain. Her looks is the main reason Misty came out of the arena alive, however. The sponsors in the Capitol were jumping at the opportunity to send her as many gifts as they could. Of course, she _was _trained, but the trained tributes in District Four are never as talented as those from One and Two. The cameras move on to take pictures of the crowd, giving Misty and I the chance to take our seats. District Four's escort, Junius, joins us on the stage, eyeing us like the disgusting, filthy creatures that most people in the Capitol view us district residents as being. Victors are supposedly treated like the best celebrities in the nation. _Yeah right._

"Settle down, all." Junius says through his microphone, clasping his hands together and waiting for the noise to die down.

"It is that time of the year again, when we find out which man and which woman will represent District Four in the Hunger Games."

I unintentionally yawn, and his head snaps around to give me a harsh look.

"Sorry." I mutter, laughing to myself once he has turned back around.

"We'll start with the boys!"

It's completely up to the escort in which order they reap the tributes, so it's no surprise Junius wants to see which boy he will be able to flirt with this year. Every year, it's the same. Junius becomes totally infatuated with District Four's male tribute and then sobs for weeks when they're killed. I'm intrigued to see if we'll have volunteers this year, our training centre isn't like the training centre's in One and Two in that the tributes are only trained for the off chance that they might be reaped, and it's totally on their own accord if they decide to volunteer.

"Cas-" Junius begins to read out a name, before being interrupted by a young man shoving his way out of the crowd on to the stage.

"I volunteer as District Four's male tribute." He says, with a sadistic smile on his face. Junius's eyes light up at the athletic physique of our volunteer, and he quickly runs over to the boy to ask him his name.

"Faelen Beckett."

Junius nods, running over to the girls bowl without taking his gaze off of Faelen.

"Time for the ladies!" He cheers, finally taking his eyes off of Faelen as he reaches into the girls bowl. I doubt we'll have two volunteers this year, we haven't had a female volunteer since Misty.

"Aura Whitechapel!"

A tiny girl pulls herself from the twelve year old section, shaking in fear and slowly starting to walk up to the stage. Before she can get to the steps, however, a girl from the fifteen year old section shoves past her, throwing her into the metal fencing that separates the possible tributes and the stage and stands next to Faelen, volunteering in the girls place. Her lack of concern as she shoved the girl out of the way makes it clear that this wasn't a volunteering in place of a loved one. District Four has _two _trained tributes this year.

"Emilie Silverwater." The girl says, pushing her hair out of her face and standing with her arms folded.

"District Four, your tributes!" Junius says, before the tributes are led off stage.

* * *

**Abyss Zahn, District Five Mentor**

"Where _is _he." I sigh to myself, eyeing my watch as everyone in the crowd awkwardly wait for Elmorson Wright, District Five's other mentor this year, to arrive at the reaping. It's Capitol rules that reapings cannot get underway until both mentors are present. It doesn't make much of a difference, but tradition is key, according to the Capitol.

"Sorry!"

My head snaps to the side as Elmorson mounts the stage, awkwardly creeping to his chair. I roll my eyes at him, thinking back to his Games a few years ago and considering how it is exactly that he won. If he can't even be on time for a reaping, I'm surprised he managed to win the Games.

"Ah, now the reaping can get underway." Maximilliana, District Five's newest escort says through the microphone. The children in the crowd look both relieved and terrified that they won't have to wait any longer to find out who it is that will be going into the Games this year.

"As always, ladies first." Maximilliana states, plodding her legs over to the girls bowl. She takes a deep breath, seemingly thinking this is a big show of her talents in picking out a name. Of course, the job of an escort is _highly _regarded in the Capitol. All they seem to do though is pick out which tributes are going in for the slaughter. I'm not particularly sure why it's so highly thought of.

"Here we go!" Maximilliana plunges her hand in, pulling out a slip and returning to the middle of the stage where her microphone is placed.

"Tatum Aston."

There's total silence in the square for a minute, until a girl finally pulls herself out of the seventeen year old section, shock plastered across her face, and begins to walk towards the stage. She stops herself just before she reaches the stairs, however, and looks to the ground to regain her composure. Taking a deep breath, she confidently strides up to the stage, looking straight into the cameras that are being broadcast live to the Capitol with sheer determination on her face. Maximilliana gives her a comforting pat on the shoulder, and Tatum smirks in response. There's something about her that catches my attention; she's undefeated.

"And now we move on to the young man." Maximilliana says with a wink directed at the Capitol cameras, heading for the boys bowl and plunging her hand in. She waits a few seconds before pulling the slip out, and once again returns to the centre of the stage to announce who Tatum's district partner will be.

"Shiriki Smokes."

A huge family in the crowd begin to sob, and a short, fat boy detaches himself from the fourteen year old section, stopping dead in his tracks as he leaves the crowd. He looks up at Maximilliana, and then back at his family, all of whom continue to sob.

"Shiriki!" Maximilliana says awkwardly, ushering for him to join her on stage.

"I'm mentoring the girl." I hiss under my breath to Elmorson, who folds his arms and sighs, realising his tribute will probably be one of the first to die.

Shiriki continues to stand awkwardly in his spot, seemingly trying to catch his breath. He places his hand on his chest in a very melodramatic manner, and several peacekeepers jump towards him as he drops to the floor. Tatum awkwardly looks from me back to Shiriki, and then finally at Maximilliana who clearly has no idea what to do.

"Your tributes, District Five!" She shouts, making a cut-throat gesture towards the cameras telling them to shut off.

* * *

**Pixie Rhodes, District Six Mentor**

"Pixie?"

I look back at Blade, the other mentor for District Six this year, as he places his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm fine."

"Clearly not."

Of course I'm not. Today, I have to watch as two more tributes are taken from their home and sent off to almost certain death. I wish I could say it didn't affect me, but it does. District Six hasn't had a victor since Blade, who I didn't even mentor myself. I don't see myself as a particularly good choice for a mentor.

"Come on." Blade sighs, pulling me up on to the stage. I gulp down, trying not to think about when I was reaped. I was twelve – reaping day was my twelfth birthday, in fact. I was and still am the youngest victor Panem has ever seen. I didn't make a single kill, but still the faces of the twenty-three that died still haunt me. And even if I did mentor a victor this year, the knowledge that they will have to go through what I go through sickens me. The morphling helps, but I force myself to get off of it during Games time, knowing I perform better as a mentor when I'm not on a high.

"Welcome all to your reaping!"

I'm snapped out of my trance as Otho, our escort, booms through the speakers surrounding me as he speaks through the microphone. The kids in the crowd look up awkwardly, and as always my eyes are drawn to the twelve year old section, remembering when I myself stood there twenty two years ago.

Otho strides over to the female bowl, a hand firmly places on his hip while reaching his free hand into the bowl, pulling one out and striding back to his microphone.

"And our female tribute is..." There is silence throughout the square in anticipation of who will be reaped, "Bryher Swane!"

I'm relieved it's not a twelve year old, but my heart still breaks for the girl as she leaves the sixteen year old section and walks up to the stage. There's a brief confrontation between a man that tries to get past the barrier towards the stage and a peacekeeper that forcefully holds him back. I'm guessing that's Bryher's father.

"Settle down all." Otho firmly says, directing his words to Bryher's father who created a scene. I never fail to be disgusted by how oblivious the escorts and the rest of the Capitol residents are to the horrific nature of the Hunger Games.

"Moving on."

Otho stomps over to the boys bowl, the outburst of Bryher's father seemingly dampening on his earlier happy nature.

"Sable Merona!"

A boy swiftly breaks free from the eighteen year old section, several people gasping as he marches up to the stage. The only recognisable emotion on his face is anger, and he's directing it all straight into the Capitol cameras.

"I want him." I quickly say to Blade.

"The girl could be good too."

District Six _might _actually have a victor this year. Both tributes look strong, and they aren't obviously stupid like some other tributes we've had before.

Maybe it's finally our year.

* * *

**Olive Parker, District Seven Mentor**

The wind blows through the trees in District Seven as we await the news at to which two children will be representing our district this year. Blight and I mount the stage quickly, we've never been the type to dwindle. I've found it's always better to get on with things. If you pity the tributes and show them remorse, they give up hope and then there's nothing that can be done with them. If you act as if it's day to day life, they're more likely to accept that they're going to have to fight in order to get out of there alive.

And it's seemed to work. District Seven is fifth on the board of victors – Two, One, Four, Eight, and then us. I don't really acknowledge where the other districts are, all I know is that they're below us.

"Welcome all, to the reaping for District Seven!"

The crowd seem much less excited for the reaping than our escort, Tacita. She's always been known as one of the slightly _tapped _escorts, and for that reason has never been promoted past District Seven. For the past thirty years, we've had to endure her insane antics.

"Quiet all!" She snaps, glaring angrily at the crowd. A split second passes and she bursts into laughter, beginning a choreographed dance around the stage that she graces us with every year.

"Not again." Blight curses, putting his head into his palms. I can't help but laugh along with some of the younger kids in the crowd. The older kids just look rage filled, not that I blame them, these Capitol people are always so thrilled about the prospect of children being murdered.

"Let us begin!" She stops with a dramatic finger raised to the crowd, turning and heading for the boys reaping bowl. It only takes her a moment to pick out a name, and she's returned to her microphone.

"Emi Prinkett!"

Several gasps are heard throughout the crowd. A small, blonde boy is shoved out of the thirteen year old section, and he makes his way up to the stage, trembling more and more with each step.

"Wait – oh shit." Blight whispers, and I turn to look at him.

"What?"

"That's the mute kid."

My eyes widen as I look back to Emi who is stood on the stage, looking out to the crowd with a look of intense fear in his eyes. District Seven kids are never particularly _advantaged_ compared to some other tributes, but if he's a mute that makes his situation a whole lot worse.

"Time for our lady!" Tacita shouts, scurrying over to the girls bowl. I can tell from the insane look in her eye she hopes for a stronger looking tribute than Emi.

"Flicker Raye!"

More gasps are heard throughout the square. A tall but incredibly skinny girl with huge, fear-filled eyes stops for a moment to look back at her family, all of whom cry out. They know their little girl won't be returning home to them; unless you count her in a box on the doorstep of her home as returning. The girl continues up the steps on to the stage, standing next to Emi. Next to each other, Blight and I are fully aware of how slim the chances of our tributes winning are. A tiny mute boy, and a skinny baby faced girl.

The odds certainly aren't in District Seven's favour this year.

* * *

**Kristina Sinclair, District Eight Mentor**

"Here we go again..."

I laugh along with Burnet as District Eight's escort, Aelia, throws herself on to the stage screaming something at the peacekeepers about wanting _room temperature_ water, and she cannot work to her best ability without her _room temperature _water.

"You'd never think there's kids in some of the districts starving to death when all these Capitol snobs care about is the temperature of their water."

Aelia turns around and gives me a _very _unimpressed look, but upon noticing that the peacekeepers have resorted to throwing bottles of water at her in an attempt to shut her up she screams and runs to the other side of the stage.

"I am _so _making sure I get a promotion next year." She huffs, brushing downwards on her skirt and re-positioning her wig.

"You say that every year." Burnet informs her, and she shoots him another one of her unimpressed glares.

"This time I mean it."

She stomps toward her microphone, making sure everybody can see how terribly District Eight have been treating the Capitol escort. She's been our escort for years, and despite complaining about it every time she has to come to us, we know that she's been offered several promotions and she turned them down. Whether or not she'll admit it, she loves District Eight.

"Settle down, children!" She shrieks, stomping her feet into the wooden stage. Aelia still doesn't get after all these years that children will be nervous when they're faced with the prospect of imminent death.

"Now, we can begin. As usual, ladies first!"

Aelia walks to the girls reaping bowl, takes her time as usual picking out the slip, and then returns back to the centre of the stage to read out the name.

"Alisa Cardale!"

Several kids in the sixteen year old section turn to face a girl that I'm guessing is Alisa, who stands frozen and wide-eyed. Her personality soon shifts to clear frustration at this new lifestyle of being a tribute, and she pushes her way out of the crowd and storms on to the stage, showing no emotion other than anger. Aelia takes a step away from Alisa, not wanting to make her any more frustrated than she already is.

"Moving on..." Aelia grins, taking another step away from Alisa and then awkwardly sidestepping around her to get to the boys bowl. Aelia sings to herself to try and pass the time as she once again spends _way _too long picking out a slip, before finally returning to her microphone to read out the name of the unlucky boy.

"Nick Arrasene!"

There's complete silence for a few seconds before a boy, another sixteen year old, picks himself from the crowd and stands in the walkway towards the stage, not wanting to move another inch. I can see in his eyes that he's considering just making a complete run for it, but he takes a deep breath and continues up to the stage.

"I bet you he cries." Burnet whispers to me.

"Burnet!"

"If he doesn't I'll buy you a drink. If he does, drinks on you."

"Fine."

Sure enough, as soon as Nick reaches the stage he starts to cry, trying to hide his tears quite awkwardly by blocking his face from the view of those in the crowd.

"Damn it." I hiss, folding my arms.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the tributes of District Eight!"

* * *

**Infinity de Wolfe, District Nine Mentor**

"Happy Hunger Games!"

I look awkwardly between Crow, the other mentor this year, and our escort Faustina who is telling everybody in District Nine just how exciting the Hunger Games are for her. She continues to point out that is _the highest honour _to represent your district and almost certainly have a long and painful death, but I suppose the people in the Capitol never really consider it like that. I can never have any hard feelings towards anybody in the Capitol, they all just remind me of clueless, lost little puppies.

"Welcome all to the reaping for District Nine!" Faustina shouts into her microphone, brimming with excitement.

"The day is here – we find out which brave man and woman will represent your district in the forty-ninth annual Hunger Games!"

Crow yawns and puts his head into his palms, clearly deciding he'd rather fall asleep than watch any more of Faustina's overly excited speech. It's odd, when I was reaped a few years ago I despised those in the Capitol. It took me a few weeks of being victor and constant visits to the Capitol for me to realise how brainwashed they all are by the President. They're as clueless as we are, they just go along with it.

"Let's start with the girls!" She exclaims, hopping over to the other side of the stage that contains the girls reaping bowl. It's completely full to the brim unsurprisingly, District Nine has one of the highest populations in Panem. Several slips fly out as she dips her hand in. _They're _the lucky ones.

"Here we go!" She finally pulls out a slip from the bottom of the bowl and heads back to the middle of the stage.

"Khyra Waive."

There's silence across District Nine as everybody waits to see the face of the girl that has been chosen.

"Come on Khyra, where are you?" Faustina asks, looking into the crowd. Suddenly, all eyes turn backwards to see a small, dark-skinned girl with a huge bush of black curls on her head make her way up to the stage. Faustina looks frustrated that she has to present such a weak looking tribute to the Capitol, but nonetheless makes her way towards the stairs and helps Khyra, who looks slightly faint, up on to the stage. Faustina leaves Khyra to the side of her microphone as she now walks to the boys bowl to reap Khyra's district partner.

"Is she okay?" Crow asks me, looking at Khyra who's legs are violently shaking. She clenches her fists shut and snaps her head upwards, looking straight out at the crowd with no emotion showing at all.

"She's strong for someone so young. Most tributes her age break down and cry." I reply, admiring the courage of the young girl.

"Let me see..." Faustina says to herself, dipping her hand into the reaping bowl and pulling a slip out. She returns to her microphone, next to Khyra, and reads out the name of the male tribute.

"Parker Tate."

A tall, muscular boy with platinum blonde hair makes his way from the seventeen year old section, cracking an awkward laugh and scratching his head.

"What was that?" Faustina asks Parker, trying to catch what he said under his breath.

"I said, but how on earth could I let District Nine be deprived of me for so long?"

Several people in the crowd laugh, amazed that he managed to stay so positive in a situation like this. Obviously, neither of the tributes are positive with the situation they're in, but if they can convince the Capitol that they are then they're certainly off to a good start.

* * *

**Carolina Newbury, District Ten Mentor**

"Oh for _god's _sake. She's drunk again."

Angel Dearden, District Ten's other mentor for these Games is known throughout the district as a heavy alcoholic. Why on earth they ever let her mentor tributes, I will never know.

"I am _not _d.. drunk!" She slurs, climbing on to the stage on all fours and pulling herself on to her chair.

"I am just... um..." She thinks for a minute before bursting out into violent laughter, so much so that she flips her chair backwards and ends up on the floor behind the stage. A couple of peacekeepers rush to her aid as the mayor finishes his speech and heads back to his chair, noticing the lack of the second mentor.

"_Where is she?_" He mouths to me, and I reply by pointing to the back of the stage. Angel suddenly pops up again, her head appearing out of nowhere at the bottom of the stage and frightening me so much that I almost follow suit and flip backwards off of my chair. It takes three peacekeepers to lift the heavily overweight woman back on to the stage, and she finally manages to sit still on her chair, ready for the escort to join us on the stage to pick this years tributes.

"Thank you all for being here today."

If there's one good thing I can say about our escort, Verginia, it's that after years of being an escort she understands how sad it is that two children from he district are very likely to die. It's not sad in a morals kind of way for her though, more like a competition between her and the other escorts. Verginia makes her way over to the girls bowl and hesitates for a second, eyeing the bowl as if expecting the slips containing the names of tributes that actually have a chance of winning to glow. Of course, they don't, and she dips her hand in and pulls out the slip on the top of the pile.

"Merino Berkshire!" She announces after returning back to the centre of the stage. Instantly, a girl in the sixteen year old section screams and drops to her knees, and the kids around her move away to give her some space. Verginia awkwardly looks from the peacekeepers and then to Merino, and the peacekeepers catch on and rush over to the hysterical girl.

"Merino?" Verginia asks through her microphone awkwardly as the peacekeepers are forced to allow the girl a few moments to recover from the panic attack she is having. The peacekeepers have to practically drag her up to the stage, and even then she sits on the steps for a few minutes trying to catch her breath.

"I'm fine! I'm fine." Merino shrieks, pushing the peacekeepers away and clambering on to the stage. She shoots a look at me, and then takes her place next to Verginia's microphone, still uncontrollably sobbing.

"Moving on." Verginia laughs, placing an awkward hand on Merino's shoulder, and then walking over to the boys bowl to pick out a slip. She returns to her microphone, having to lift up the microphone stand and move a few centimetres away from Merino to prevent Merino's sobbing from being the only thing anyone is able to hear through the speakers, and reads out the name.

"Covite Spinelly!"

Several boys in the crowd shout back at the stage, cursing the escort for picking their friend as Covite begins to move through the crowd, receiving several hugs and pats on the back on his way from his friends. He reaches the walkway and appears as if he's about to burst into tears, but sucks in his emotions, clearly not wanting to cause a scene like Merino did.

"Dibs on Covite." I say to Angel, who's still too drunk to even process what I said.

* * *

**Chaff Mackay, District Eleven Mentor**

"You'd think they'd be more sympathetic to the kids on reaping day."

I nod as Seeder once again rants about the peacekeepers as she does every year. I agree with everything she says, but at some point I decided I may as well accept it and get on with life. The peacekeeper force in District Eleven are incredibly strict, possibly the strictest in Panem. If I remember rightly from my victory tour, the peacekeeping forces in the other districts are much kinder than those here at home.

"They'll be forced straight back to work after the reaping. Even if their family member is reaped. Sickening." Seeder continues, not removing her glare from the eyes of the head peacekeeper. It's quite relieving, that we're allowed to say almost anything to the peacekeepers here and receive no punishment due to being victors. Our new escort this year joins us on stage, nervous for his first day as an escort. I _should _hate him, being the one to come to our district every year and take away two kids for slaughter, but I can't help but feel sorry for him. The Capitol people are completely oblivious to how awful the Hunger Games are, the biggest fear for them is torrential rain coming down and ruining their make-up.

"Hello District Eleven! I am Blasius, your new escort."

_New _being because our last escort passed away at some point. Blasius introducing himself is returned with total silence from the district, something Seeder and I can't help but laugh at. It's always so entertaining to see these Capitol people make such a fuss over being liked by their respective districts, and clearly Blasius isn't off to a good start.

"So, shall we begin?"

Blasius is once again returned with total silence, which he accepts is as close to an answer is he's going to get. He moves over the girls bowl to pull out a name, and then returns to his microphone.

"Kasha Via?" He asks, looking into the crowd.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

All the kids from the fourteen year old section suddenly separate away from Kasha, who instead of crying like the typical reaped tribute, instead has gone into total psychopathic child mode and begins to violently scream atrocities towards both the stage and back at her family.

"You promised! You _promised _it wouldn't be me! I hate you!" She screams at her family as a peacekeeper is forced to throw Kasha over their shoulder and carry her up to the stage.

"Put me down!" She screams, kicking at the peacekeeper and he complies by throwing her on to the stage. She slams into the wooden floor, continuing to punch and kick at it.

"Let me handle this." Seeder sighs, getting up from her chair and walking over to Kasha to try and calm her down. I'm not sure _exactly _what Seeder says, but after a few minutes the girl is all smiles and appears as if she's more than happy to be tribute.

"Brat." Seeder hisses as she returns to her chair, folding her legs and shaking her head at the young girl. Blasius doesn't bother to say anything to Kasha, instead quickly moving over to the boys bowl to pull out a name.

"Omarion Donatello?" He asks very quietly, hoping he doesn't get another bratty tribute. He breathes a sigh of relief which soon turns to fear again as a huge, muscular dark-skinned boy leaves the eighteen year old section and walks up to the stage, totally unnerved that his name has been called. He doesn't even glance at his district partner, clearly having it decided from the offset that he wants nothing to do with that bratty little girl. I don't blame him.

"District Eleven, your tributes!"

* * *

**Karina Bolton, District Twelve Mentor**

Another year, another two tributes for me to mentor. The past few years my mentoring hasn't had a particularly good track record, although I don't think it's very fair to compare me to the other mentors when I have the task of mentoring _two _tributes at once. I'd have thought in the past few years I'd have mentored at least one tribute to victory. So far, no luck. I'm _still _the only victor District Twelve has ever seen.

Our escort from last year has seemingly been promoted, and we're now graced with the presence of Xena, one of the Capitol's newest escorts. Her bright green hair flies in the wind both outwards and into her face, prompting a violent shriek and what I can only describe as a dance to try and get her hair back into place. She ultimately manages to get in a position that stops her hair from flying around too violently, and smooths down her clothes as she walks towards the microphone.

"Hello District Twelve!" She says, grinning. It's not hard to tell that she's full of excitement that she's been given the task of taking two children from their home to imminent death.

"My name is Xena, your new escort." She says, not allowing her huge grin to leave her face. The crowds stare at her in disgust, as they always do when Capitol people visit during Hunger Games period.

"We'll start with the girls, shall we?"

Xena makes her way to the girls bowl, picking out a slip before returning back to her spot and reading out the name.

"Maddie Asherwyde!"

Several girls in the sixteen year old section turn in shock to a girl, who must be Maddie.

"Maddie!" Xena shouts, ushering for Maddie to join her on stage. Maddie stands stiff, unable to process what has just happened. Her jaw looks as if it might detach itself from her head, and she raises her hands to cover her mouth in shock. Several peacekeepers push through the crowd to get to her, and are forced to practically drag her on to the stage as she seems totally unable to move herself. Xena moves away from Maddie and towards the boys bowl, picking out a slip and then returning to her spot.

"Zander Farmendy!"

A boy, of oriental descent lets out a gasp that is heard throughout the entire square. Several more boys move out of the way to allow him a clear exit, but he seems to have exactly the same reaction as Maddie. Seemingly unable to move, the peacekeepers are once again forced to drag our tribute on to the stage.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the tributes of District Twelve!"

* * *

This took me so long to write... And so when I finally had it done I genuinely could not be bothered to proofread, so if there's mistakes in there I apologise. But yeah, here's your reaping. I'm aware a lot of it is repetitive but I _hate _reapings, and I'm aware my writing isn't the best... apologies. :)

Go look at the blog again, the link is on my page, since last chapter I've added alliances, changed the alliances a few times, and changed a few pictures. Also, vote on the poll on my profile!

Now you've seen the reapings, answer me these questions in your review:

_Have your opinions on any of the tributes changed after reading the reaping?_

_Which mentors point of view was your favourite?_

You can also give me individual opinions on each mentor and tribute which I would appreciate, but that's totally up to you. Also, I'd appreciate a critique on my writing, as I am a human and I do spend time on this so it's always nice to get feedback instead of you just answering the questions.**  
**

**- Cosmoguy a.k.a Dom**


	4. Vanished

**Chapter Four: Vanished**

* * *

_In the dark, we come out and play. __We are its children, and we're here to stay. __Running through, hungry for strays. __No invitation, take me away._

* * *

**Corvinus Kay, District Two Male**

_Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock._

The territorial stare-off I've been having with Milla for the past ten minutes doesn't falter.

_Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock._

I could kill her now with the flick of my wrist, it's what I was born for. Unfortunately, I have to wait until I'm in the arena to start my massacre. And even then, I'm expected to be allies with Milla.

_Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock._

"If this is some sort of primitive instinct to try and intimidate me, it's not working." Milla sneers, still refusing to avert her gaze.

"Then why are you still going on with it?" I reply, folding my arms and deepening my glare into her eyes. Apparently you're supposed to be able to tell everything about a person through their eyes. That doesn't apply to Milla. Good training, I guess.

"Your logic is flawed. If I was intimidated I'd have ran to my room to sob about my imminent death. I'm a _Fiori, _Corvinus. Fiori's aren't intimidated by little boys with more muscle than they know what to do with."

Her words ignite a rage inside of me. I volunteered because I _am _going to be the victor. No stupid, weak little girl is going to take that from me. I try to keep myself calm, but it's only a few seconds before I've flipped my chair over and am inches away from Milla's face, wishing so much that it was legal for me to break her neck right here.

"I hope your family of Fiori's enjoy watching your body turn up in a box on their doorstep."

She breaks into laughter, moving her chair backwards and wafting her hand in front of her nose in a pathetic little dig that she must think offends me.

"Is there anything else?" I growl.

"Yeah, actually there is," Milla stands up, patting me on the back, "I think we can say I won that little stare-off."

I'm ready to break her neck there and then, but I contain myself knowing the Gamemakers will never let a tribute win if they kill their district partner before the games even start. And as much as I despise her, I know Milla is a valuable ally.

"You two kids having fun?"

I turn to see Brutus enter the room, shortly followed by Cara. Unfortunately, I have to deal with another one of the Fiori's this year as Cara has been designated as my mentor. I'd much rather have Brutus, and I'm pretty sure Milla would much rather have her sister, but apparently it's against the rules for family to mentor family.

"We need to talk strategy, tough boy." Cara says, making an effort to make it sound like she has better places to be and better things to be doing.

"I don't need to talk about anything with you." I hiss back, proud at how much of a reaction I ignite within her.

"_Fine._ Feel free. Don't co-operate with your mentor. But when you're lying in the arena bleeding out in desperate need of medicine to save your life, don't expect me to pass any sponsor gifts through to you."

I feel my face drop as I realise how much I'm going to have to work with this Fiori girl. The chances of me lying _anywhere_ bleeding out are ridiculously slim, so much so that I'm completely sure it won't happen, but I'm aware after studying years and years of the Games in the training centre that there have been rare years in which no weapons are in the cornucopia. In the event of that happening again, I'll need my mentor to send me a weapon.

"And we can't do this when we're in the Capitol, why?" I reply, staring out of the train window. I'm aware my argument to her is completely pathetic, but I refuse to give in to her, especially since she's Milla's sister. Cara seemingly ignores me though, and pulls herself up a chair and begins to speak again.

"What weapons can you use?" She sighs, sitting at the table and leaning her head in her hand.

"Anything."

"Specifically?"

"Something I can skewer someone with."

"So a sword." She says matter of factly, tapping her nails on the table.

"I can work with that."

"Damn it Corvinus!" She shouts, standing out of her chair and slamming her fist into the table, "I can't work with a pathetic little boy that won't even co-operate with me. Do you want to die?"

I look back at her, aware that she's totally different from her sister. Milla is calm, _annoyingly _calm. Whereas Cara makes up for what Milla lacks. One word wrong and I don't doubt that Cara would slit my throat. If it was legal, that is. _I love it._

"I don't want to die. But I know you want me to. How else is your sister going to make it out of the arena alive unless I'm dead?"

She considers this for a minute, knowing inside of her that my words are true.

"I've been given the job of mentoring you. I intend to do just that. Milla has Brutus, she doesn't need me to look out for her; now can we get on with this?"

I nod to her, pulling out a chair across from her and sitting in it.

"I can use anything, but ideally a sword." I tell her, prompting a relieved nod that I'm actually going to co-operate.

"Obviously, I'm expecting to ally with Milla and whoever comes from One. If they're trained like we are, then the pair from Four too."

"Shit." Cara says, snapping her head to look at the clock.

"What?"

"The reapings re-cap. They're on now. Come on."

* * *

**Emilie Silverwater, District Four Female**

"Emilie! Faelen! Hurry up!"

"Just a second!" I reply to Junius, pulling my hair up and tying it into a ponytail. I sigh to myself and pull my hair down again, remembering I look better when it's not tied up. You can't do anything right unless you look good doing it.

"Emilie!"

Junius flying into my temporary bedroom on the train startles me, prompting a scream and I almost fly backwards into the plastic frame of my bed.

"Reapings re-cap. Starting now."

I nod to him, forcing myself not to scream in his face for making me jump. I see Misty, Mags and Faelen are all already in the sitting area, and Junius takes a seat next to Faelen, getting awkwardly close. Mags had already pre-warned Faelen about Junius, saying he always ends up falling for the male tribute that volunteers from our district.

"Come on, Emilie." Misty grins, patting on the seat next to her.

"Welcome citizens of Panem, to the reapings re-cap." Claudius Templesmith says as I take my seat next to Misty.

"Firstly, District One."

Both tributes from One are volunteers, unsurprisingly. The girl looks like a total _bitch_, whereas the boy just looks completely insane. That's always the thing about volunteers from One and Two, they can fight, but they're so unlikable. Although so far, I can't say I've been particularly drawn to Faelen either.

"_Crap._" Mags hisses as the screen switches to District Two. Misty looks at her confusedly for a second, before coming to the same realisation Mags has, whatever that may be.

"Milla _Fiori._ Everyone from that family that's even been in the Games has won." Mags sighs, and I can see in her eyes she's already given up on Faelen and I.

"That doesn't mean it's going to be the case this year." Faelen points out. There's something about that boys voice. It chills me.

"No, no it doesn't. But just watch out for her in the arena. Don't trust her." Misty adds, nudging Mags as if to tell her that we've caught on that Mags thinks both Faelen and I will die.

"Now to District Three." Claudius Templesmith announces, and the screen flicks on to the factory surrounded square of District Three. Both tributes from there look like the typical Three type, they'll no doubt die on the first day. And then the screen switches to home, with the blazing sun and the blue sea. For a second I miss home and regret volunteering, but not because I don't think I'll win – more of a temporary homesickness. I watch for a second time Faelen mount the stage, striking fear into every twelve year old at the front of the crowd. And then, there's me, accidentally knocking the twelve year old girl that had been reaped into the barrier. _Oops._

"I look so disgusting!" I shriek.

"Emilie." Mags says calmly.

"What?"

"Shut up."

I sigh to myself and fold my arms, instantly feeling awful that I looked so disgusting on screen.

"Abyss is a mentor this year." Mags grins as the screen switches to District Five. I almost forget that our mentors forge friendships with the victors from other districts. It seems completely absurd for someone to communicate with anybody from outside of their district, it's forbidden. Of course, the rules don't apply to victors.

There's a complete contrast between the two tributes from Five. The girl, a steel-faced expression and a burning determination in her eyes, mounts the stage without even a flicker of fear. The boy, however, a fat, short little thing, instantly passes out as his name is called. Before I can stop myself I burst into laughter at the pathetic little boy, but then camera switches off so we don't get to see what happened after he fainted. The other districts don't stand out much, a tiny boy from Seven and his equally tiny district partner, a girl having a violent panic attack from Ten, a girl throwing a tantrum from Eleven. Apart from the pairs from One and Two, all of the tributes I've seen look like they'll be dying on the first day.

And I don't doubt it will be I killing many of them.

* * *

**Sable Merona, District Six Male**

"You know we're probably not going to last five minutes in the arena."

I nod to Bryher. She's right. The reapings re-cap proved any fears I had, six equally brutal looking tributes from One, Two and Four. Even from some of the outlying districts, a few of the tributes look intensely threatening. I'm not scared, but I'm definitely _pissed._

"The Capitol deserve to burn for what they're doing to us." I hiss, snapping around to look at my district partner.

"Watch what you say, tough boy. This whole room is probably bugged. It's the best way to get to know their tributes."

"What can they do? Kill me?"

Bryher bursts into laughter and I soon do the same. It's either that or cry.

"How about that Snow? The Capitol burning and _your_ children dying!" I yell, standing to my feet and_ wishing _the President was in my room to hear this. The entire train ride I've been planning a speech to say to the President if I'm ever given the chance to meet him one on one. I doubt that's going to happen unless I win, and I know the chances of the Gamemakers allowing a tribute like me to win are incredibly slim. Especially if they're listening in to what I'm saying right now.

"Stop it!" Bryher laughs, punching my shoulder.

"What about it though? What could they really do, say we snook out in the middle of the night when we're in the Capitol and..."

"Stop. You know what they'd do if you caused trouble for them."

"Kill me?"

She shakes her head and points to the corner of the room, where a small bump in the ceiling is visible. Must be a microphone. I look back to Bryher, as she mouths _they'd kill your family_ to me.

"Oh, yeah."

It's not unheard of. Many times victors have refused to abide by Snow's rules, and he's had their entire family executed. Apparently Snow tried to turn Pixie, my mentor, into a prostitute for the Capitol people's needs the day she turned sixteen. She refused. Now, she lives alone in her huge house in the victors village. I guess that's why she turned to morphling.

"And they wonder why there's an issue with morphling addiction in Six." I whisper to her.

"Even if we win, they took our lives from us the moment our names were called." She replies. I feel bad almost, that I've started all this talk of rebellious nature with Bryher who clearly has family at home that she cares about. Of course, I do too, but it's not hard to tell that Bryher doesn't want to risk enraging whoever is listening in on our conversation so that they order her family to be executed. I make a mental note to avoid that subject with her from now on.

"It's time for dinner, anyway." I tell her. We both walk out of my room, where we've been sat for the past hour since the reaping re-cap. Neither of us are stupid enough to fall for each other, but it's nice to have a form of companionship while we're waiting to be dropped into the arena and forced to butcher one another.

"Ah! Finally!" Otho shouts to us as we join him and our mentors at the dinner table. As if they were waiting for us to arrive, several waiters place mounds and mounds of food across the table. I wasn't hungry before dinner, but now all I can think about is stuffing myself with everything on this table. Bryher seemingly has the same feelings as me, and she begins piling her plate with everything she can get her hands on.

"So, I assume you two are going to be allies?" Blade asks while I'm putting a huge spoonful of rice on my plate. I'm about to answer, but Bryher cuts in before I can.

"Nope." She says simply.

I'm shocked. I feel hurt, almost. I knew it would be a short-lived friendship, but I thought we'd at least be allies in the arena until one of us died.

"Don't look so upset, Sable. If I wanted allies, you'd be at the top of my list. I refuse to let myself get attached to anybody while we're in the arena though, it'd slow me down."

I understand, almost. But I still can't help feel betrayed.

"I'll find other people to ally with, then." I reply, starting to stuff my face to try and hide the obvious upset expression on my face.

* * *

**Alisa Cardale, District Eight Female**

"Alisa, you haven't eaten a thing."

I'm pulled out of whatever I was deep in thought about to the sound of Kristina's voice. I half expect her to look concerned, but instead her stern expression makes me force myself to eat in order to prevent frustrating her any more. As my mentor, it's her responsibility to keep me alive, something that she has no chance of if I go into the arena weak from starvation.

"Sorry."

"Something on your mind?" Kristina asks me, this time appearing genuinely concerned.

"What, you mean other than the fact I'm about to be sent into an arena where I'll either die or turn into a murderer? Nope, nothing at all."

There's silence at the table and when I look up I see everyone staring at me, especially Aelia who looks genuinely _pissed off _that I'm actually upset about the fact I'm going into the Hunger Games. I always knew I'd hate the Capitol people, I just never thought I'd get the opportunity to actually meet one. Unfortunately, dealing with idiotic Capitol residents comes with the job description of tribute.

"I'm not apologising this time." I say solemnly, standing up and walking from the dining room to the other end of the train. I want to be as far away from that pretentious Capitol snob as I can.

"Don't worry, I hate her just as much as you do." Nick says, following me into the part of the train that contains the television. It's getting late and I know I'll have to sleep soon to stop myself looking completely drained when I reach the Capitol, I just can't bring myself to go to bed yet. Instead, Nick and I switch the television on to find the Games from last year being played. They always do replays during Games season until the Games actually begin. To get the people of the Capitol into the murderous spirit, I guess.

"I don't know if I have the stomach to watch this again." Nick says. I nod in agreement. Last year's Games were by far the worst _I've _ever seen, and by the way my parents reacted I'm guessing that's the way they feel about it too. Prime Willerton from District One won, which means he's going to be mentoring one of the menacing pair from District One.

"Let's just hope this year isn't as horrific as last year." Nick says under his breath, the fear evident in his voice. I nod again, too focused on the television to speak. It's at the moment when the pair from Two died, killed in a fight with the girl from District Four, who had been the favourite to win the whole way through the Games. She was tall and incredibly muscular, with a frightening face and an equally frightening attitude to murder. The pair from Two were well trained, of course, but the size of their opponent meant they eventually met their end. The brutal nature of her kills make me want to vomit, but I force myself to keep the little food I've eaten down knowing I'll need it to keep my strength up for when I'm in the arena.

"What're you doing?" I ask Nick as he grabs the remote and rapidly rewinds the show, heading all the way back to the bloodbath at the cornucopia on the first day. Thirteen tributes died, leaving the five careers and six others for them to hunt down.

"Thirteen died... they must have done something wrong. If we just look at the ones that survived the bloodbath, what their tactics were. I don't know. It could help us, I guess."

I once again nod as a reply, still unsure of Nick. We're district partners, so he's the most obvious choice for an ally, but I'll have to get to know him before I can decide whether or not I trust him.

"Oh my god."

Nick appears horrified and whimpers quietly under his breath as last years career pack begin the assault on the other tributes. The eventual victor, Prime Willerton from One, reaches the cornucopia at the same time as the boy from our district. Before he can even think about what's happening Prime shoots an arrow straight through his heart and he drops to the floor, dead. The girl from District Four has the most kills, slicing and dicing at the tributes with her sword. The pair from Two are equally as deadly, working as a double team to take down various tributes. The girl from District Four wildly cackles as she beheads her own district partner – who was one of the few reaped kids from District Four these days that nobody volunteered in place of.

"Well, I think I know what we're going to need if we're going to survive the bloodbath." I say.

"What?" Nick looks at me with hope that we might actually make it past the first day.

"Luck."

* * *

**Covite Spinelly, District Ten Male**

Hellick. Brade. Hiall. Elden. Arlena. Manda. _Rycer._

Thinking of them all hurts. For the first time in my life, I had friends. I had a purpose. The Capitol tore all of that away from me. It's not fair.

But then again, when is life ever fair?

"You two need to sleep. You've got a busy few days ahead of you." Carolina tells Merino and I, the tone in her voice making it clear we aren't to argue. I'm about to ask where Angel is, but I guess she's probably passed out on her bed from drinking too much again. She occasionally emerges from her bedroom for food, but other than that she sits on her bed crying and drinking. _Until she passes out, _that is.

"Night." Merino whispers to the two of us, clearly too drained to actually speak. Carolina nods to her and then Merino is gone.

"So are you two making our lives easier and being allies, or do Angel and I have to mentor you separately?" Carolina asks.

"Well, I've not really had the chance to have a conversation with her yet."

If I'm honest, I'd happily ally with everyone, even someone as volatile as Merino. I'd rather be with somebody that's likely to burst into tears every five seconds than be on my own.

_On my own._ The thought makes me shudder. I hated being alone back in District Ten, never mind the arena.

"Yeah, yeah I noticed. Give her some time to calm down. We'll talk about it tomorrow at breakfast, for now you should get some sleep kiddo. I need to go sort Angel out." And with that, Carolina stands up and sweeps towards Angel's room. Despite all of her complaining, it's clear Carolina sees Angel as her best friend. They both went through the same thing, so I'm guessing they know how each other feel. Carolina is just better at hiding it.

"Night." I say quietly, aware that she's already gone and won't hear me. And I'm left alone, to ponder on the thought of my imminent death. Who's going to kill me? When will I die? Will they make it painful? After seeing the reapings re-cap I'm not entirely convinced that the careers are likely to show mercy. They look even more brutal than last years career pack.

"Angel, you need to get in that shower _right _now. You're covered in your own vomit."

I begin to catch some of the conversation between Carolina and Angel. From the tone in Carolina's voice, I can tell this is a regular occurrence.

"Leave me alone! I jus' need t- to sleep!"

As usual, Angel's words are slurred. I don't think I've ever seen that woman sober.

"What? So you can marinade yourself in vomit? I won't tell you again, Angel."

"I don't want a shower!"

"Angel."

"Fine!"

I can't help but laugh to myself at the situation. I know Angel turned to alcohol as a form of coping with her personal demons after winning, and although she was called one of the most beautiful victors in the history of the Games for a few years after her victory, she eventually began to pile on the pounds and is now a heavily overweight alcoholic.

"What are you doing prying on us, boy?"

I'm snapped out of my train of thought by Carolina swinging the door open and looking at me angrily.

"I wasn't prying, I was just going to bed. Night Carolina!" I run as fast as I can from the open door of Angel's bedroom to my room, slamming the door shut as soon as I enter. A young woman snaps up as I enter and looks like she's about to have a heart attack.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." I say, talking quietly so that Carolina doesn't hear. I was told _specifically _by our escort, Verginia, that we must not speak to those that work on the train and in the Capitol that wear white. I'm not exactly sure why, but following rules set by people I don't like has never really been something I'm good at anyway.

"You don't have to be scared of me, I'll probably be dead in a few days anyway." I sigh, jumping on to my bed and placing my hands behind my head. The woman quickly scurries out of my room, not saying a word. Odd. I probably scared her away with my talk of death.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the victor of the forty-ninth Hunger Games, Covite Spinelly!" I say, imitating the voice of Claudius Templesmith. _Ha. _Those are words that I very much doubt I'll ever be hearing. Unfortunately, it seems like my death will be inevitable. I quickly clench my eyes shut to try and block out the thoughts of my death.

"Covite Spinelly, District Ten, _dead._"

* * *

**Maddie Asherwyde, District Twelve Female**

I'm torn from my sleep by a violent scream. I shoot up from my pillow, darting my head around my bedroom to try and work out where the sound is coming from. It takes a few seconds to register that it was me.

"Maddie?"

The door to my bedroom swings open and Karina appears, looking across at me sympathetically. I'm guessing this isn't the first time she's dealt with screams from the tributes she's been forced to mentor.

"I'm fine. Sorry."

It's morning now. It hits me that being on this train are my last moments of _real _freedom. Yes, I technically became the Capitol's rag doll the second I was reaped, but as soon as we get to the Capitol I'm officially taken into custody in the building in which the tributes reside.

"Breakfast is in a few minutes." Karina sighs, massaging her temples, "Xena's being even more loud than usual today."

Karina's very slight dig at the Capitol escort makes me laugh. Not because it's particularly funny, but because it's against a Capitolite. I despise them all.

"I'll get ready."

Karina leaves my room, continuing to rub her temples. I pity her. She knows she's going to have to watch her tributes die again, yet she continues to put on her brave face. If I was in her situation, I know for a fact I wouldn't be able to be as strong as she is. Although, I'm sure I'll never get the chance to prove myself wrong.

It's odd. The moment you're reaped you sort of accept that you're going to die. I had always imagined myself crying every night and begging the Capitolites to not send me to the arena, but I feel like I've gone into automatic mode. I'm going to die, why spend my last few days as a sobbing wreck?

I'm almost intimidated by the technology on the train. I'm not bothering to shower, I don't want to wash off the last remnants of home.

"How do you work this thing..." I say to myself, and am startled when an attendant dressed all in white bursts into the room and instructs me on how to use the electronic wardrobe. I look up to the attendant to thank them, and instantly recognise what they are.

_An avox._

Since the education back home isn't too great, we often end up watching speeches from President Snow and videos made by the Capitol to keep the citizens of Panem in line. An avox is a traitor, and for their crimes they had their tongues cut out. I think that knowledge is the only reason many District Twelve citizens don't make a run for it in the woods.

"Thanks." I say, and the avox leaves as soon as they came.

Flicking through the screen on the wardrobe, I eventually decide on a long sleeved black silk top with baggy grey bottoms. Not the most flattering outfit, but I've decided vanity isn't the best trait to be carrying around when you're sure you'll be dying in a few days. May as well live the last few days of my life in comfort.

"Just in time." Xena grins, her eyes wildly darting over to me as she clasps her hands together. I almost regret leaving my room, and prepare myself to run away from our seemingly insane escort. In the end, my stomach overrules my brain and I sit next to Zander just as breakfast is served.

"We'll be arriving in the Capitol in approximately fifty minutes!" Xena cheers, her voice turning to a painful squeak as she speaks.

"When we get there, do not show _any _emotion to the cameras. Act like you're a robot. We'll talk about what angle you're going to play when we've got more time to decide on it. You understand?" Zander and I simultaneously nod as Karina feeds us with information.

"The Capitol reporters will be throwing endless questions at you. The Capitolites will be screaming your names. You may smile, but other than that, _nothing._"

"And if they aren't screaming our names?" Zander asks worriedly.

"You're practically celebrities now. Of course they will." Karina replies, tucking into whatever it is we've been served for breakfast.

"So, are you two _excited?_" Xena squeaks, looking at me enthusiastically.

"Excited? Are you kidding?" I reply, feeling the rage begin to boil inside of me. _Oh shit. _I've never been particularly good with holding in my anger.

"Yes! That's what I said isn't it?"

"Would you be excited if you were being forced to go to a city full of vile looking, _sick in the head _psychopaths to be prepared to be thrown into an arena with twenty-three other innocent children to be murdered? Are you fucking serious?"

"Maddie!" Karina snaps.

"I don't care. She's just as oblivious as the rest of them. All of you Capitolites are!"

Zander looks at me as if he's going to burst into tears. I'm guessing he's not too great at holding his emotions in either.

"You all worship the Hunger Games, you act as if it's something to be celebrated. One day I hope that you are made to go through what the people back home are going through right now. I hope _your _kid is murdered on national television, while everybody is watching, and then I _really hope _it is celebrated. The difference being, you would deserve it!"

"Maddie, that is enough!" Karina stands up from her chair, slams her first into the table and looks me dead in the eye, "If you have a problem with the Capitolites, fine. But make sure they don't find out about it. Their sponsors may be the only thing to keep you alive."

Xena bursts into tears and runs out of the room. It only makes me hate her more.

"Now, we're nearly at the Capitol. Eat up, you'll need your strength."

* * *

Here's the train rides. I originally wasn't going to do a train rides chapter, but when I worked out how many chapters I'd need in order to give each tribute _at least _two point of views before the Games begin I realised I'd have to. I hope you enjoyed it.

I tried to show the personalities of the tributes the best I could here. Corvinus, the typical District Two brute. Emilie, the narcissist. Sable, the anti-Capitol rebel. Alisa, quiet, to the point and introverted. Covite, desperate to make everybody like him. And finally, Maddie, unable to hold in her anger.

Before I forget, I'd just like to clear something up:

If I disliked your tribute, I wouldn't have accepted them. Remember only one can win, and other than the victor everyone else dies at some point. You submitted knowing your tribute only had a one in twenty-four chance in winning, so _please _don't hate me when I eventually kill off your tribute. I'll stress many times that where each tribute places will be done in an order that works best for the story, and since I am the author I'll be deciding on that. I'm not saying this because of anything anyone has said to me, I'm just saying it because I want to make sure I do before I forget. **  
**

If you want short profiles on each of the victors with pictures of what they looked like at their time of victory, go and look at the victors blog my best friend and I Becca (BeccaJoy) made for our canon world. It's on my profile.

I've also added escort names to the story blog, so if you're interested in that go ahead and look.

Some questions for you to answer in your review:

_Which tribute's point of view was your favourite?_

_Do you like or dislike any of the tributes more after this chapter?_

_Do you think any of the tributes featured in this chapter could win, if so who?_

Also, remember as well as answering the questions to **actually review. **The questions are simply something for you to add on, I am much more appreciative of actual critiques and reviews that will help me to improve my writing rather than a ten word review answering the questions in the shortest form you can think of.

Next chapter will be the Chariot Rides, and will feature point of views from the six districts not featured in this chapter, once again alternating in gender.

Also, I'm going to give it a shout out here because my favourite story on the site is being super underrated. You should all read _Born to Die _by BeccaJoy. It follows Cato and Clove on their last days before the Games and eventually them in the Games, as well as Audrina Prescott, Clove's sister and Cara Fiori-Prescott's daughter.

**- Cosmoguy a.k.a Dom**


	5. Through The Hosiery

**Chapter Five: Through The Hosiery**

* * *

_Feel so good, you said it before. T__o your feet, you fall to the floor. __Deep inside you still want more, d__eal or not, you look to the door. __Through the hosiery, t__o the armory, t__o the nothing. __How do you feel when you can't feel nothing?_

* * *

**Armando Fine, District One Male**

You know, it really is quite liberating.

Standing completely naked in front of three admiring strangers that I am told to call my _prep team. _But really, it's nicer when I think of them as total strangers simply here to admire me.

"Not much work is needed, actually..." Darnae, one third of the prep team tells the others, prompting agreeing nods.

"No, no. It appears we can move straight on to hair and make-up."

It takes them a good three mintues before they stop admiring, or examining as they like to call it, my body before I'm finally given a long white robe and thrown into a chair. Darnae begins running her fingers through my hair as the other two scurry off to search for their tools.

"Ah yes, you have wonderful hair... there's definitely a lot we can do with this."

"Thanks..." I reply half-heartedly, honestly starting to get _slightly _freaked out by these Capitolite oddballs. The attention is great, but when it feels like they're totally obsessed with you, it starts to get slightly creepy.

"Look at me, sweetie." Darnae grins and I awkwardly move my head towards her, trying my hardest not to laugh uncontrollably at her implanted whiskers.

"Now, I think a quick tidy up is all that's needed on your hair. Yes, yes, we'll have you looking beautiful in no time. How lucky we are, to be given such an attractive young man! I bet the other prep teams are _so _jealous of us right now!"

_Jealous. _That's not a surprise. It was clear Amethyst and I were Capitol favourites the second we arrived.

"Keep your head straight, boy!" Darnae hisses, pulling my head upwards and getting to work on my hair. It only takes minutes with her Capitol technology, and then she's off, allowing the male member of my prep team to get to work.

"Well your skin is in nice condition... I think a quick face mask would just make it _glow _though, don't you?"

He doesn't wait for an answer before he slaps a perfumed pink goo on my face and massages it in, almost blinding me in the process several times. Had he been anyone else, I'd probably have knocked him out cold by now, but if he can make me look and better than I already do so I'm more likely to get sponsors, I'll just have to deal with it.

"You are _awfully _quiet." He sighs, slapping more of the gel on to my face. I answer only with a grunt, deciding that he isn't really worth my breath.

"Do you not have anything to say then?"

I let out a loud sigh, making it evident I don't wish to talk to him.

"That was a loud sigh. Something bothering you young man?"

It's in this moment that I realise just how brainless these Capitolites are. Any district citizen, _any, _would be intimidated by me. Just the fact that I'm from District One makes a statement, but these Capitol clowns are completely oblivious to just how capable I am of punching them straight in the face. I can't say I'd take pleasure in hurting one of them, but I certainly wouldn't turn down the opportunity.

"My turn!" The third member of my prep team screeches, throwing the other out of the way.

"We'll just get this off..." She grins, washing the facemask off and then going on to applying make-up to my face.

"Hurry _up _Hortatia, Marcia wants to see him now!"

"Shut up, Plinus, I'm going as fast as I can!" She snaps back to the male member of the prep team, slapping on some last touches and before the three of them stand back to admire their work.

"They're going to _love _you." Darnae sighs, tearing up.

"Well, I guess you're ready for your stylist! Straight through there." Plinus points me to a room and I quickly follow his direction, wanting to get away from them as quick as I can.

* * *

**Pixel Volta, District Three Female**

"Ah, you must be Pixel."

A terribly overdressed woman holds her hand out to me as soon as I enter the stylist room. As courtesy, I return the gesture and shake her hand before allowing her to lead me to the sofa.

"Well, it's my job to get to know you a little bit, and then to get you into the outfit I've designed. My name is Sentana."

"Pixel. But I'm aware you knew that already."

"Tell me something about yourself, Pixel."

Tell her something about _me? _What can I say? I'm from District Three, I'm sixteen, I'm going to be slaughtered in a few days. What else is there?

"Well?"

"Well..." I begin, "It appears I have come to the conclusion that there's nothing for me to tell you. Not only am I preposterously boring, I'm not entirely convinced I would feel comfortable revealing the finer details about my home life to somebody I have just met. No offence, of course."

She glares at me for a second, and then speaks again.

"Yes, definitely District Three."

"Excuse me?"

"Even if I didn't already know, you make it so obvious that you're from District Three. Here's some things you just unintentionally told me about yourself," I eye her, unaware where this is going, "You use silly long words, you're too intelligent for your own good, and you hold a personal grudge against Capitolites."

She _is _good.

"I like to think I have an extended vocabulary. I agree that I'm smart, but in my life I have found that it's impossible to take in too much knowledge. And as for the last one, I'd be appreciative if we could steer away from that topic."

"So, you hungry?" She asks me, completely ignoring my last remark. Of course, I didn't particularly expect a response since I purposely asked her not to, but it would have been nice if she'd argued just a little bit. I'm particularly good at winning arguments simply by confusing people with the words I use, though I can tell she doesn't really care for the getting to know me part of her job, much like all of these Capitolites. It's as if they're robots, programmed to only respond fully to President Snow. I know they're not, however. For a start they move and react too fluently, and secondly, if they were I probably would have built them.

"I asked you if you're hungry. You Three kids, always end up getting lost in your own train of thought." Sentana sneers, stuffing her face with whatever it is that's suddenly been raised from the table. It's a delicacy compared to what we have in District Three, but I can't bring myself to eat it. It seems like I'm betraying everything I know and love about home.

"Typical District Three attitude of not eating, either. Is that why you're so skinny?"

I'll be the first to admit that I'm underweight. District Three doesn't exactly have the best economy, which ultimately means only about five percent of the population get enough to eat. Most of us in District Three live in huge, towering apartment blocks that almost appear to be built out of cardboard.

Yes, I'll definitely be the first to admit I'm underweight. But I am unappreciative of the patronizing tone in this Capitolite snob's voice. I purposely ignore her, staring at my nails the the prep team coloured in sparkling silver, making it clear to Sentana that my nails are much more important to me than she is.

"Have it your way. I'll eat later on my own." She hisses, hitting the button on the table again and the food sinks back into it. I force myself not to protest, angry at myself for not eating when I had the chance.

Sentana stands from the sofa, her huge thighs clapping against one another with each step she takes as she makes her way over to a huge metallic tube implanted into the wall. With the flick of a switch, the tube turns, revealing my outfit for the opening ceremonies. It's beautiful, to say the least.

"What do you think?"

A skin-tight silver dress coated in glitter, with pointed shoulders and a skirt that almost resembles a tutu, with small lights stitched all the way down both sides of the outfit. The boots are my favourite part, however; knee-high and metallic silver, they too have they lights running down the sides of them.

"Magnificent."

* * *

**Shiriki Smokes, District Five Male**

"They're all laughing at me."

"Who?" Tatum asks, turning away from her stylist to face me for a brief second.

"The careers." I sigh, shying away from the gaze of the brute from District Two. The pair from Four are engulfed in laughter, making jokes to one another no doubt about my weight.

"Ignore them. They're careers. Hurting people is what they were raised to do." Tatum tells me, placing a hand on my shoulder. It's no help. The knowledge that three out of the six careers view me as some sort of joke before the Games have even started prove they think I'll be one of the first to get taken out. I don't doubt it either. The Games is no place for a little fat boy from District Five.

"It's only three of them. They don't particularly look like they know what they're doing anyway." Tatum shoots an icy glare at the girl from Four, causing her to awkwardly turn away and step on to her chariot. Her district partner, however, continues to stare at Tatum with a lustful grin on his face. It's hard to tell whether he wants _her _or her blood.

"Creep." She hisses, stepping on to the chariot and placing her gaze elsewhere.

Milla Fiori from Two finishes talking to her sister, a member of the ever famous bloodline, and strides back over to her chariot next to the her district partner that continues to stare and laugh at me. She shoots me a sympathetic look and punches the boy on his shoulder, causing a huge argument between the two.

"What the fuck are you doing!" The boy roars, taking a step closer to her in the hopes of intimidating her.

"Here we go." Tatum sighs, as all eyes turn to the ever petrifying pair from Two.

"Step away from me right now." Milla replies calmly, allowing a smirk to creep on to her face. It only enrages the boy even more, and I shiver thinking of how he'd take enjoyment out of killing me.

"Ignore them. It's all just a show to try and intimidate the tributes before the Games even begin." Elmorson tells us, stepping over to the chariot. He soon has to eat his own words, however, when the mentors from District Two have to shoot over to their tributes to break up the fighting.

"Well, maybe they'll take each other down before you have to at the least." He grins, taking a swig of whatever drink he's holding in his hand. It absolutely reeks of alcohol, and I force myself not to retch. I've had enough of that smell at home. Having ten children doesn't do wonders for the mental health of a mother.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," I start, imitating the voice of Claudius Templesmith, "The tributes of the forty-ninth Hunger Games. From District One, sparkle girl and a man that's not-so-fine that have been interestingly designed as pink, fluffy cotton balls!"

Tatum and Elmorson burst into laughter.

"And from District Two, the all brawn and no brain roman gladiator wannabes!" Tatum adds, throwing the three of us into even more laughter.

"And how about that perverted freak from Four and his bimbo district partner!" Elmorson cheers, slightly _too _loud, as the pair from Four snap around and glare at him.

"Which is what I _have heard, _for I am a mentor, and all of my views on other tributes are strictly business related only." He adds, giving us one last wink and dashing off before he can enrage our competitors any more.

"All tributes to be ready for the opening ceremonies in one minute." A voice says through a huge speaker. My stomach instantly begins to churn and I can feel my nerves begin to rise again.

_Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm._

Obviously, it's no use. How can I stay calm? If the tributes are judging me for no reason other than my looks what am I supposed to expect from the Capitolites? It's their job to judge me, to decide whether or not they'll sponsor me. And why would anybody sponsor a short, fat fourteen year old boy when they can sponsor the beautiful and deadly Milla Fiori, from a bloodline of victors. Or her huge, towering district partner that looks like he could crush my skull with his bare hands. The career pack that Tatum, Elmorson and I spent our time mocking will without a doubt be the favourites. There are a few other strong looking tributes this year, including Tatum. If there are _any _eyes on the District Five chariot at all, they'll be for her. Not for me.

No, nobody will sponsor me. Nobody will pin their hopes on me. Nobody will be surprised to see me die.

"Opening ceremonies commencing in five..."

The huge barn doors slide open, revealing the screaming Capitol crowds outside.

"Four..."

Photographers instantly begin to take pictures of the barn despite none of the tributes even leaving yet. The anthem begins to play. _This is really happening._

"Three... two... one..."

* * *

**Flicker Raye, District Seven Female**

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

My heart pounds in my chest. The cheering Capitol crowds only add to my nerves.

_Shit._

"Stay calm." I whisper to myself. I quickly brush my own words off, however, when a member of the crowd throws a rose at me causing me to yelp in fear.

_Calm, Flicker. Calm._

I can do this. Of course I can. I can do anything I set my mind on. I shoot my gaze straight ahead, seeing the District Six tributes having no issue with playing the crowds. Other than the career pack, all eyes are on the tributes from Six. Both exceptionally strong looking, I don't doubt they'll be huge sponsor favourites this year.

So, all eyes are on them. I don't have to worry. Why would they focus on two undernourished children when they can focus on the taller, stronger ones that might actually stand a chance in these Games? At least, that's the way they see it. I'm determined to prove to them that they're all wrong for underestimating me. Except, for now, I'm glad all the eyes are elsewhere.

"Flicker! Flicker!"

My head jolts to the side to see a group of five Capitolites all cheering my name. One of them, a man that seems to resemble a rotten petunia, throws a kiss at me and I instinctively catch it and blow one back. This isn't as hard as I thought.

"Wave, Emi."

I don't expect a response. In fact, it's nice that I can talk to him without expecting him to say anything back – except I don't talk to him, because he gives me the serious creeps.

"Bryher!"

The girl from Six responds almost in the same way I did to her name being called. _Bryher_. I told myself I'd try to learn all of the names of the tributes before the Games began, so I could familiarise myself with them in the event I either need to befriend them or run from them. Killing them isn't really an option right now.

I continue waving at the Capitol audiences, catching Emi in the corner of my eye staring straight ahead without even the smallest ounce of expression on his face. He's probably already accepted that he'll die; something I can't do. I have family to go home to. I have a life to go home to. I _can _do this.

And if I'm going to do this, I need those sponsors. For the last few seconds of the chariot rides, I throw everything I've got into my performance. Winking at the men in the audience who fake passing out, waving at the women as they quickly wave back and blowing kisses at the young children that jump and cheer with excitement.

If I can get them on my side, maybe I'll just stand a chance.

The chariots finish in the square, circling around President Snow's balcony as he steps out for his annual speech, although I don't let this stop me from entertaining the Capitol crowds. Maybe a skinny, average looking girl isn't the most likely choice to put your money on, but I'm going to make sure they take me seriously. I'm here to win just as much as everybody else is.

The President makes a quick speech, the cameras cutting from each pair of tributes to the next. They seem to spend even more time on the pairs from One and Two, unsurprisingly. They're always clear Capitol favourites, with the District One tributes' consistent good looks year after year and the District Two tributes' sheer intimidation factor. _Milla Fiori._ Everybody knows her name. All of our mentors have already warned us about her. Every member of her family that's ever volunteered has come out on top.

_Not this year._

The President quickly finishes his speech, and then the anthem plays again as our chariots ride around the square one last time before heading for the training centre. And then, as soon as it started, it's finished.

* * *

**Parker Tate, District Nine Male**

"You were _amazing!_"

Khyra's stylist, Kalia, rushes over to the two of us to exclaim her excitement about how perfect our waves and kisses directed to the Capitol crowds were. She talks about it as if it's a refined skill.

"They just _loved _you! You're going to get so many sponsors!"

"Well, how could they resist a little bit of this." I wink at her, prompting a look of disgust, "That was a joke."

"Right."

These Capitol people. So serious. You'd expect them to show at least a shred of personality going off of the way they dress.

"Now that the hard bit is out of the way, we've just got to get through the games, right Khyra?" I joke, nudging my tiny district partner. She looks up at me with wide, fearful eyes, and I can tell she's not as optimistic about the situation as I am.

"You'll be fine. You've got me as an ally." I tell her, giving her a reassuring pat on the back. Kalia rolls her eyes at me again, entering the elevator that takes us up to our floor.

"Hold it!"

Kalia throws her hand in front of the doors just before they close, causing them to reopen so that the tributes from Five, Six and Seven can join us in the elevator.

"Well this is nice and cosy." I joke to everyone, receiving even _more _looks of disgust.

"Can nobody in this damn city take a joke." I hiss under my breath, feeling relieved as the tributes from Five leave at their floor.

"What's up kid, Snow got your tongue?" I say to the District Seven boy, referencing the avox's and finding myself completely hilarious.

"He's a mute." His district partner says, glaring at me. I awkwardly turn away, forcing myself not to crack anymore jokes that might offend anyone. Eventually, all of the tributes in the elevator with us have left, and we arrive at our floor.

"So, how does it feel now that everyone in the Capitol have already judged if you're going to _die _or not?"

"Ah, Crow. Optimistic as ever." I reply to Khyra's mentor, grabbing an apple off of the table and sitting down next to him.

"Optimism is dumb. If you want to come out of the arena alive you need to shut up about that dumb bullshit. Focus on each day at a time and you might just make it to the final six."

"And if I want to win?"

"You're from District Nine. What are the chances of that?"

I growl at him under my breath, taking a huge bite of the apple in my mouth to stop him hearing the curse words I direct at him.

"We did it, Crow. Who's to say Parker or Khyra won't?" Infinity, who has the honour of mentoring yours truly, is clearly more optimistic than her counterpart.

"It was a fluke that we won!" He yells back at her, spilling his wine all over the cream coloured carpet which throws our escort, Faustina, into a fit.

"Oh my _god! _The carpet! You've ruined the carpet! Do you have any idea how bad this will make me look? I can't even keep the mentors under control, how will I keep the tributes under control! They'll all be gossiping about me, I'll lose my job! Oh my _god!_"

I look over at Infinity, the two of us bursting into laughter as Faustina pulls out an inhaler and rapidly tries to regain her breath. Crow seemingly ignores her, continuing to sip on his wine.

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. _Please _refrain from causing any more destruction to this place before then? Okay? Thankyou." And with those words, Faustina scurries off to sob about how _awful _her tributes and mentors are this year.

* * *

**Kasha Via, District Eleven Female**

I sink into my bed, letting my body relax for the first time since the reaping._ This is so wrong. _Why am I here? Why do I deserve this? Why couldn't that bitch that reaped me pick out the name of a dirty street rat, that nobody would miss?

And as much as I hate my escort, the one person I hate the most right now is my dad. That liar _promised _me I wouldn't be reaped.

"_Don't worry sweetheart, daddy will protect you. Daddy will make sure nothing bad happens to you. You'll be safe, I promise. And after the reaping Daddy will get you anything you want to prove to you how much he loves you."_

I scream to myself, grabbing a vase from the table in my room and smashing it against the wall. It feels relieving to finally let my frustration out, especially since it's on Capitol property.

"Kasha?"

My door swings open and Seeder rushes in, a look of fear spread across her face.

"What's the matter? What's going on?" She asks, her eyes scanning the room until she finds the broken vase. I purposely don't reply to her, staring at her with the most offensive look my face can make. Her eyes meet mine again, and she's almost shocked by my facial expression. _Good, that will teach you to come into my room uninvited._

"Did that make you feel good? Smashing that vase? Does breaking things make you feel like you're superior? Reality check, darling, you're a tribute. Snow isn't going to grant you immunity from the Games in fear of you breaking his best vases."

And with that, she leaves, slamming the door as she goes.

"Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, get ready!" She shouts back to me, and then she's gone.

_Bitch._

I don't know who she thinks she is. The only reason she won is because she hid from the other tributes like the stupid little girl she always has been, and when it finally came to fighting she let the other two tributes left in the Games do it, until they were both dead and she was crowned as the most boring victor Panem has ever seen.

Chaff, however. Chaff is much cooler. He doesn't shout at me. He lets me do _whatever _I want. Even if he did tell me to do something, I might actually consider doing it since he's earned my respect from winning his Games by actually fighting. Maybe Seeder should try to _earn _my respect before acting like she's anything than lower than me. It sucks that I've been given her as a mentor instead of Chaff.

_Dinner in twenty minutes. _Right. I jump off of my bed, making sure to avoid the broken vase and make my way towards the bathroom. The huge mechanical shower is worlds away from the water pump we use back home, and it takes me several minutes to work out how to actually get into it.

"What the-!"

I let out several violent screams as I'm coated in burning hot wax, before a huge brush appears and begins rubbing at my body in an attempt to remove the wax. If this is skincare, then I'm glad it doesn't exist in District Eleven.

Eventually, I work out how to avoid the weird cleaning options and manage to actually turn the water on. They say a shower can wash all of your frustrations away.

_That's bullshit._

I finally finish in the shower and jump out of it, refusing to let it injure my skin any more than it already has, and head back to my bed. I did intend to only lie on my bed for a few minutes and then get dressed for dinner, but soon my lack of sleep from the past few days catches up with me, and I drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Oops. Sorry about it taking me so long to update. I've had so much work to do recently.. Hopefully now I can pick up the pace of this story now my work load is lighter.

I tried my best to show the personalities of the tributes. Also, I'm aware some point of views here were a bit shorter than others, and overall this chapter is a bit shorter than last chapter, but I wasn't really sure how to drag out the Opening Ceremonies. I did my best, though.

So this is chapter five. In exactly five chapters time is the bloodbath... That's odd. It feels like this is going really quickly. I'm basically a quarter way through this story already.

**Also: **just a quick note, as I pretty much have _no _idea how the placing of your tributes is going to work out right now, reviewing is really important if you want your character(s) to survive. Obviously, all deaths will be based on realism and in an order that works out best for the story, but if I suddenly get stuck and don't know who to kill next, I'm more likely to keep the tributes of those that review around as opposed to people that don't even let me know that they're reading the story with a super quick review. I'll stress again that _good _reviews are best, but a small review is better than nothing if you're in a rush.

And another thing! Go check out the blog because I've done a post on the arena to give you more of an insight as to what the tributes will be faced with this year.

Some questions for you to answer in your review:

_Which tribute's point of view was your favourite?_

_Do you like or dislike any of the tributes more after this chapter?_

_Do you think any of the tributes featured in this chapter could win, and if so, who?_

Next chapter is the first of two training chapters, and we'll be going back to the district features last chapter, but with point of views from the tributes that haven't had them yet. And then the second training chapter will be the districts featured in this chapter, but also with the tributes that haven't had a point of view yet. After that is interviews (which I am dreading) due to the fact I'm giving every one of the twenty-four tributes I have a point of view. Then, a pre-games chapter, and then the bloodbath! This is really moving quite quickly.

**- Cosmoguy a.k.a Dom**


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